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Monday, August 11, 2014

Monday's Minute Challenge: Writing Prompt Contest For Teens & p

A quick writing challenge (and contest) to help get your creative juices flowing for the new week.

The entry must be between 150 - 300 words. Otherwise, your entry will not be accepted. (In order to see how many words your entry is, write it in Microsoft Word, or you can copy and paste it here.)

The deadline for the contest will be the following Friday.

You do not have to be a teen to enter the contest.

The same person cannot win first place two weeks in a row. (Some exceptions may apply.)

If there is at least 5 entries, the panel of judges will select a 2nd and 1st place. If there is at least 10 entries, the judges will select a 3rd, 2nd, and 1st place. However, if there is under 5 entries, the panel of judges will only select one winner.

If there are at least 10 entries, there will be a few Honorable Recognitions, which are the next highest winners. They will receive a badge, as well as 3 points.

The winners will receive a badge for their blog, as well as extra points (see the point system below).

The winner will be chosen based on the judges's preferences, as well as the following questions: Does this entry capture my attention immediately? Does it make me want to continue reading? Is the writing clear? They will also take into consideration the writer's voice and style--not necessarily technical issues, such as grammar, punctuation, etc.

If you have entered at least 3 contests and have yet to place, send me an email and I will be happy to give you a critique of your last entry, which will include tips and suggestions.

This is only for fun and to stretch your writing muscles--not necessarily to be taken too seriously. =)

Prizes:

More prizes to come!

30 points: You will be able to create your own prompt that will be used in Monday's Minute Challenge!

40 points: You will receive a critique based on your current week's entry.

50 points: You will receive a free blog critique and helpful suggestions.

70 points: You will receive an 700 word critique on your novel, short story, article, etc.

*When you request to use your points for a prize, the points you use will be taken away from your total. In other words, when you reach 30 points, you can claim the prize for 30 points--but it will cost you all of your points. Or you can continue to try and earn points so you can claim a bigger prize.

If you have entered at least 3 contests and have yet to win, please send me an email and I will be happy to give you a critique of your last entry and offer suggestions.

The judge panel chooses these winners based on a point system (not to be confused with the point system mentioned above!)Thanks so much to everyone who voted! It helps the judge panel tremendously.

Please don't discouraged if you have yet to place (or haven't in a few weeks). The competition becomes more and more tough each week, but the judges still think every one of your entries are impressive. Remember: The more times you enter, the more chances you have of winning. So keep it up!Also: A blog post will soon be posted on how to strengthen your writing and increase your chances of winning. =)(Keep in mind that the judges are not aware of which entry belongs to which participant until after the judging is complete.)The entries that the judges thought was the most intriguing (based on rule #4) is ...

Third place winner:

The
sound of running feet brought Morning Light out of a deep sleep in an instant.
Within a matter of seconds she had grabbed her satchel and tied the raw hide
thong around her waist. Then, in the same motion, pushed her feet into moccasin
boots and raced out. Woman’s shouts, horse shrieks, and war cries filled the
air. The first thing that came to mind was Raiders! Lights from torches cast
shadows all around her, illuminating her silvery blond hair and blue eyes, “Oh,
no. This can’t be happening!” The tepee beside her burst into flames. She
stumbled to the other side of the tepee, arms upraised in an effort to protect
her face from the intensity of the flames. Coughing uncontrollably as the wind
blew smoke into her face; she tripped on a small rock and fell into someone’s
arms. After another second of coughing, Morning Light cleared her eyes of the
smoke. All at once she realized that the man who had caught her wore a blue
uniform. She jerked backward. “You don’t need to be afraid.” The man in blue
said as he kept her from falling into the fire. “I’m not going to…” Shouts cut
off his sentence. Morning Light looked from him to the flicker of torch lights
that were coming closer then darted for the woods. She could hear angry shouts
coming from behind her. “Just get to the caves. Get to the caves!” Morning
Light kept telling herself, “Nothing will happen to you. Nothing has in all of
your fifteen years.” Just then, a hand came out of the shadows and clamped over
her mouth.

The thrum of voices buzzed around me as I
lifted the yellow tape and walked under. The heavy clouds threatened a downpour
and the already wet grass was slippery under my feet. I looked down at the
victim dead in the creak and turned away. As many times as I had been on a case
I had never gotten used to looking death in the face. It was always worst when
it was a child and this kid couldn’t be more than fifteen.

The Detective Sergeant stepped up next to me.
“Well, give me the details.” I said.“Kevin Troy, fifteen years old, found like this
by a couple of girls.”“Time of death?”“Less than 24 hours. We haven’t got an exact
time yet.”“Any idea what connection he had to this place?”“He was one of the students here.”I turned to look at the stately building on top
of the hill. It was one of those posh schools where the rich folks sent their
kids so they wouldn’t have to bother with them.

My eye caught the movement of a small paper boat
bobbing on the water. Donning my rubber gloves I picked it up to investigate
and the wet paper fell away to expose a vile with a slip of paper inside.

Beware of the small things that become greatThe seed of bitterness that turns to hateBeware the thorn the pricks the fleshThe smallest things can end in death

I let out a low whistle. “Sergeant, take a look
at this.” He came over and read the dark prediction.“What does it mean?”I looked at the cold figure lying in the water.
“It’s a warning.”

He knew if he looked back it would only make it
worse, but he couldn't help himself. He looked back. Anger and pain coming back
like a bitter friend. He stared blankly at what looked like an empty field now.
He walked towards the remains of what had been a little town in the middle of
nowhere, where his mother and father had raised him, his two brothers, and his
sister. He walked through what had once been Main street, rounding the corner
to where his small farmhouse had been.

He looked through the remains for anything that
might have survived. As he walked over the planks of wood that would have been
a small staircase to the loft, something fell. He spun around to see his
sister's diary lying beside one of the planks. He picked it up, brushing off
the ashes and opening it to the last pages. It read:

"May 15th, 1849

"Dear diary,

"Today will be one of the most difficult
days of my life. But I know I have to do what I'm going to do, and that someday
people will understand it was for the good. And-"

He flipped frantically through the remaining
pages, hoping that the rest of the torn page would be somewhere among them. He
sighed, for the rest of the page was nowhere to be found. He placed the diary
in his bag and hopped onto his horse, looking back one more time before he
galloped away.

55 comments:

Hello y'all! This is my first time doing Monday Minutes besides submitting my prompts last week, but here's my story. Hopefully doing these challenges will improve my writing! I did the phrase prompt.

She knew he was coming back. He must come back. Their very lives depended on it. A hike, that’s what started it all. Isaac had gone for help, while Jenna tried to gently remove the broken glass from Hailey’s arms and face. If their brother didn’t get help, they would be stuck in this tree house till their death. Hailey had lost too much blood and she couldn’t possibly walk back to town; she was weak and helpless. With tears streaming down their faces, the sisters waited for help. Would Isaac be able to find his way back? Would he be able to find the signs they had left on their way here? Would he come down the right paths to get back to them? While the thoughts of their future flew through their minds, Jenna and her sister tried not to give up hope. They had to believe in him. -Emily-

The broken glass crunched under my feet. I shiver as the wind blows, howling through bare trees. Even though Mom discourages me from coming up here, she doesn’t forbid it. In the tree house, with the old walls and the broken windows is where I belong. Not in our house that is slowly emptying as all of our belongings are packed up, but here in the woods where I can be free. Two weeks ago, with one last, and very loud, fight, Dad got in the car and drove away. An hour after Dad left, Mom got a phone call. There had been an accident. They said he didn’t suffer. Now I come to the tree house that was ten years old. Dad and I had made it together. After I had gotten the news Dad was gone, I ran out to the tree house. The roof was gone, and the windows broken, but even messed up there was a beauty about it I hadn’t been able to find anywhere else.Then Mom told me we were moving, just another blow to add to my beat up life. From my spot standing next to the broken window I watched as the “For Sale” sign got hammered into the frozen ground.So much change in so little time. Would I ever have anything secure about my life again?The wind blew again, ruffling my hair, gently stroking my cheeks, giving me a friendly reminder that God wouldn’t leave me. God will never leave me.

I did the picture prompt.I was a slave. We were all slaves, and no one could truly help us. Forever we would have that mark on our hand that told everyone that we were slaves. Even if we were bought, we were only allowed to go with the buyer if they were taking us for a slave of their own. I stared down at my hand while tears ran down my face. It wasn’t fair; we were humans treated like...a machine that didn’t matter to anyone as long as work got done. That’s all that we were to people; machines to do their work for them and live a miserable life. I wanted a better life, and I was determined to get it. I would get it; no one could stop me. I would have to run, there was no other way. With a determined look on my face I planned my escape for that night.

Prompts:Picture: http://www.imagehousing.com/image/746858Words: Ladder, music box, chestPhrase: The rain pounded on the roof as I buried my face in my hands.

Great job, everyone! I used the sentence prompt and my word count was 188. I sort of continued this from another one I did a few weeks ago.

I opened my eyes slowly, my ears still ringing. My black hair was plastered to my face, and my head throbbed. I looked at the watch I had placed on the rock beside me. I had sleep at long time, and he still hadn’t returned. I knew Jace was coming back. He must come back. Our very lives depended on it. But as the hours went by, I began to doubt. I pulled up the blanket that covered me, carefully unwrapping my leg. It was much better, and it didn’t even hurt. A branch cracked, and I glanced around. My eyes fell on my handgun, and I dove for it. A sharp pain went through my right shoulder, and I screamed as my hand flew up to my shoulder. I pulled it away, and it was covered in blood. My instincts taking over, I grabbed my hand gun and flew across the dirt ground, not even bothering to push the branches out of the way as a pine tree scraped my face. I could contact Jace soon. But I have to stay alive before I can do that.

She knew he was coming back. He must come back. Their very lives depended on it. Diamond screamed in pain. Emmeline lay motionless. Elizabeth was dead. They were all prisoners. If only Tobin would bring reinforcements.

She didn't fight when the guards came and dragged her away, but her apathy left as soon as it had begun. She pushed her chained hands together so hard they started to hurt.

“Eira!” she heard the moment of unguarded surprise, even sorrow, when she looked up to meet her former friend's eyes. Kara quickly reordered her expression into one befitting an official, a general, and maybe an executioner, but she'd already betrayed her emotions. Eira thought she'd forgiven Kara, but now she found she couldn't. Kara had killed Elisa. Eira didn't even know if Emmeline was alive. If Tobin didn't return soon, they'd all die.

“Eira, don't you understand. Freedom is a lie. The people are happy. What are you fighting for? Your rebellion led in the death of at least one of your friends. Freedom is a lie.”

Eira fought to her feet, her anger about to overcome her. “You betrayed me, why should I trust you?” but she couldn't help but wonder if maybe Kara was right, if maybe she was fighting for a futile cause.

The sun was setting when we reached the tree house. Savannah and I were the first to climb up the rope ladder. As we sat down, our backs against the wall, the man in charge of us and all the other slaves walked around the room, stopping in front of Savannah with a disapproving look. Shaking his head, he picked up the lantern and left, locking the door behind him. I tried to choke back tears as I looked down at my hand and the mark on it. It was the same mark all of us had had since the day we were born, telling everyone we were slaves and nothing but slaves. I turned and looked at my sister. She wasn't her usual self, and she hadn't been since the day we left. She looked weak and sick.

I folded my hands and prayed. At that moment, the window next to us shattered. A young man cautiously climbed through the window. He held up his lantern and looked around the room. Then he looked at me and Savannah, walking over to us. He whispered, "We need to go. Now."

I looked out the window. It was a dark out, and pouring. I felt someone pull on my shirt and turned around. It was Elena.

"Selena, I'm cold," she said. Elena was only five. She had bright blue eyes and blonde curly hair that was pulled back into a ponytail. Elena and I looked alike, except that my hair was brown. I glanced over at the other window, the broken glass lying on the floor. Then I looked back at Elena.

I got up. I knew we had to leave this place.I grabbed a couple bags and threw some of our belongings in them. I put a raincoat and rainboots on Elena, then I slipped on my rainboots and coat too. I grabbed our bags, then picked up Elena and walked outside.

The rain was coming down hard. I walked off the porch and past our old tree house. I walked through the backyard and towards the woods. Turning around to take one last look at the house, I noticed the for sale sign in our neighbor's yard. Then I turned and walked into the woods.

Objects: House, friend, tree

Sentence: "If you didn't want to do this, then why did you come here?"

Here are my prompts~Objects~ Torn sandal, Viking ship, Empty satchelPhrase~ He knew it was impossible. Neither she nor her family would ever accept. He sadly turned away from the only person he had ever loved for the last time.No picture~Armina~

This is my first time doing this, so, I am sorry if I did anything wrong. Also, I don't know how to vote, but here is my entry (I used the picture prompt):

I shuffled forward and halted, as I had been doing for what seemed like hours. I squeezed my brother’s hand so tightly it made my knuckles white, we were reaching the end of the line. The line began to move once again and my mind raced for an escape. A man with a black suit drew closer to me and my brother, Aiden. In this evil man’s hand was a large metal box with a black hole in one end.

“Just stay calm, Ryan, we will get ourselves out of this.” My brother whispered softly into my ear. His voice is shaky, he is scared too.

“You two,” the man pointed straight at me and my brother, I gulped. “Single file!” Aiden obediently dropped my hand and stepped in front of me, but I wished he hadn’t, I needed his support and comfort, though he was just as scared and surprised as I was. The line once again inched forward and Aiden was the next teenager.

I watched in horror as Aiden’s hand reached for the machine and entered. I heard a quiet popping noise and my brother’s sagging body shot up with attentiveness. What did they do to him? I turned to run away but was too late, the machine had already been slipped over my hand. In a matter of seconds a chill ran throughout my body and I walked forward against my will. I looked to see where Aiden went in order to follow but my legs led me in the other direction. What is happening to me? I was now alone. I was now enslaved.

Wow, I'm really late this week. :( Well, better late than never, and here's my entry for this week, off the sentence prompt, 300 words exactly. :)

She knew he was coming back. He must come back. Their very lives depended on it. And he'd always come through before.

But the rushing water was up to their waists now, and rising by the second. It had all happened so fast. The luminous green water had swallowed their car in seconds, trapping them in this surreal world. Water had immediately begun spurting in from every possible crack and crevice she wouldn't have ever known was there. But the windows hadn't broken. Hadn't given them a way out.

"Isabel!" Sarah's panic-tight voice caught her attention. She turned to the backseat, where her best friend still sat frantically struggling with her seatbelt. "I can't get it, Izzie, please-"

Isabel pushed between the two front seats, feeling around the icy water until her hand found the buckle. "I've got you." She pressed down to release. Nothing happened. "All right, count of three, I'll press, you pull. One, two, three!"

Nothing.

"Izzie!" Even in the dark, Sarah's eyes glowed with terror. The water, just below Isabel's chest, was only a centimeter from covering Sarah's mouth.

"It's okay. Ethan's coming, just wait." Isabel kept pulling as the water crept higher. Ethan had seen their car go under. He was coming. He would find them.

Wouldn't he?

Sarah was lifting her head, trying desperately to keep her nose above the water, to keep breathing.

Isabel pulled.

The seatbelt had to come undone. It had to. She prayed more desperately than she ever had before. God could break the window, He could lift the car right out of the water. Please, God-

But the water covered Sarah's head.

In that instant, Isabel realized: It was all for nothing. Everything they'd been through, all they'd survived, fought for, it meant nothing.